Beautiful Whispers (Ausmor Plantation Book 1 - Romance/Suspense) (6 page)

Mrs. Kiness called Alexander away, and I walked through the house searching past lone tourists, rushed tour guides and busy staff. I needed to find a group – a pile up. Look for a wad and there in the middle would be
Evan.

He tended to act like sticky tape inadvertently picking up everyone attracted to him. He was one of those naturally hot guys who didn’t have to do a damn thing to announce his hotness.

“My darling Jane Eva,” Grand Maeve said, gliding in from the Rose Parlor. “And how is my favorite niece?”

I instinctively looked around for my sister. It wasn’t a secret as to who Grand Maeve favored, but at least I thought I should politely look in case something needed to be smoothed over. Grand Maeve stared directly at me. She lacked the need to cover.

I kissed my great aunt’s cheek. “Hello, Grand Maeve. I’ve decided to just go by Jane.”

“Oh, how wonderful.” Grand Maeve smiled and clasped her hands together as if I’d said I’d found a million dollars buried in the basement.

“It is a fine name.” She smiled.

I nodded. The fact that I was named after Grand Maeve Jane Austen was another reason she loved it. Although a great aunt to me, and the grandmother to Lillia and Evan, Grand Maeve long ago decided against traditional titles and settled for Grand Maeve.“What are your plans today, Grand Maeve?”

She grinned.

I guess I should have asked, ‘who are your plans today?’ since my great aunt collected men.

“Oh…” Grand Maeve blushed. “I am fortunate enough to be quite active today.”

I winced. “Have you seen Evan?” I leaned past the rope Karenda used to block off the old Morgan dining room and peeked into the renovations. Silence. The workers scattered like crickets on a summer night around my great aunt and her wandering hands.

“What are we discussing?” Margaret Morgan Stonston - Mags - lunged into the conversation followed by her son, Johnston.

Grand Maeve sighed very loudly. “The Damn Other Morgans. Where’s the pest control?” She long ago decided - not her blood; not her problem.

Officially, Grand Maeve and Uncle V produced three children; unofficially, they had a son - the father of Evan and Lillia. According to Grand Maeve, two daughters resulted from Uncle V’s diddling of maids. Since Mags wasn’t her child, Grand Maeve didn’t have to cloak her disgust.

“Excuse me,” I said slipping away. I couldn’t risk another run in with Johnston.

I leapt up the Grand Staircase for my escape. On the second floor - the traditional Morgan part of Ausmor - sunlight streamed through the large twelve paned windows at the front of the house and caught a few inches of blanched hardwood peeking around the flowered hunter green and royal blue rug. Bright lights captured every detail in the portraits of Morgans interspersed along the paneled lime walls.

Careful to avoid an incoming tour, I fled into the library and slid behind a dark brown stained bookshelf. I was shocked to find Evan hiding there as well. We both smiled as we tried to remain silent.

“This room is the Morgan library,” Tour Guide Taylor said. “I just wish Mr. Evan Morgan was here...” He cleared his throat. “He does have such wonderful assets.”

I smiled at Evan who blushed and shook his head.

Taylor paused as tourists stretched to see past him.

“Huh,” a tourist said, unimpressed. “The Austen library’s bigger.”

Evan nodded.

“But this one’s brighter,” another tourist said. “Happier.”

“I mean I know the Austens are supposed to be better and all…” a tourist began.

I shifted positions and tried not to look at Evan. We’d heard our entire lives about the feud between Austens and Morgans. It originated from two famous Morgans who did naughty things, but I didn’t want Evan to suffer because of it.

“But isn’t the Austen part of the house… I don’t know… dark and depressing?”

This time I nodded. Evan might endure a couple of ancestors with criminal pasts, but the Austen blood bubbled with madness and suicide.

“And what about the ghosts, man? Didn’t that program do a program here?” one gum smacking, jean ripped guy asked.

“That’s right,” another said. “They came here and got all scared and stuff and heard voices and shadows and shit. That show is awesome, man. Did you see the one when they went to New Orleans and that one guy almost pissed himself when he saw…”

I laughed at Evan rolling his eyes as the tour group walked down the hall out of earshot.

Evan peeked around the door to make sure they’d left. He turned to face me. He could always tell what I was thinking before I thought it. “What’s going on?” Then he looked closer. “Your face?”

I quickly looked at the ground. “It’s what I need to talk to you about. I can’t be sure. I have no proof.”

Evan took a deep breath to brace himself. “Tell me.”

“I was doing the website this morning. You know, doing the blog, and Johnston scared the bejesus outta me.

Evan cringed. “He was in your room?”

I nodded. “Don’t know how he got there cause my bedroom door was still closed. Don’t know why he was there, but the way he looked at me…” I shook thinking about his sickening expression which betrayed his grotesque thoughts.

Evan set his jaw tight. “I’ll take care of it.” He gently touched my arms. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I mean we can’t make a fuss.” I thought about what his mother, Mags, would do. “It’ll be his word against mine. I don’t want a report or this to get out. There’s no proof. We really don’t know what—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

I breathed a little easier. I trusted Evan. He never said anything unless he meant it. ‘Always say what you mean and mean what you say,’ he quoted as a child. “Although…” my thoughts raced. “I wouldn’t mind a good dismemberment. Or decapitation. I actually think Johnston would look better headless.”

Evan nodded. “Indeed.”

Working in the carpentry building,
I hadn’t seen Jane in a while. I promised I’d let her tell Evan. Then I’d do something.

As I sawed the wood for the new banister, I heard a noise behind me. Probably either Johnston or Byron. Didn’t matter which. They were both alike to me. I won’t let him hurt her again. Not again. I couldn’t protect her last time, but I’m not leaving
this time.

I got that weird feeling of being watched. I stopped the machine and looked around. Ausmor wasn’t exactly a quiet place. The staff. The family. Tourists. Evan’s nature preserve. Bitty’s screams. Her helpers’ cries. Mrs. Kiness’ orders.

I shrugged it off. Then another noise. Before I could turn around, the sharpest pain…

“What on earth?” were the first words I heard when I woke up face down in the sawdust.

Mrs. Kiness rushed to my side and helped me up. “What happened? Did you trip? Was it an accident?”

The pounding in the back of my head told me it wasn’t an accident as my hand pulled away revealing blood.

“Oh the saints!” Mrs. Kiness jolted into rescue mode. “We need a doctor and a hospital and an ambulance.”

I grabbed her hand before she rushed off. “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“But…”

“It was an accident.” If he was willing to do this to me, what would he do to Jane?

Mrs. Kiness led me inside and to my room. Refusing to go to the hospital, I lied in bed propped up with pillows. My head ached like a son-of-a-bitch, but I’d been hurt worse in the bar fights I used to get into.

My room at Ausmor was small and at the back of the house. Yellow. Too yellow. I think it was Mrs. Hodges old room. Mrs. Kiness
left quickly and brought back flowers. I didn’t know why. What about me screamed flowers? But I smiled, and it made her feel better. Mrs. Kiness fussed and sighed and fumed and worried. She’d been like a mother to my own mother, and, with no other family, she was the closest I had to blood.

I didn’t refuse the doctor she brought, and he said I didn’t need stitches and would be fine. But through all the good news, Mrs. Kiness only heard one thing: concussion. Enough to put her on high alert.

“You rest but not too much sleep. We cannot have you waking up dead,” Mrs. Kiness said.

I nodded or grunted, and she understood. Then someone knocked on the door.

Mrs. Kiness opened the door to Jane. From the look on her face, I don’t know if she knew I was hurt or had just come back to see me. Either way, I was happy to see her.

Her eyes immediately flashed confusion then worry. “What happened?”

“An accident,” I said.

Mrs. Kiness nodded slightly, but her downcast eyes told Jane something else. “He’ll be fine, child. How did you hear about it?”

Another knock on the door saved Jane from explaining. Mrs. Kiness opened it to see Sally, one of her protégés.

“A disaster, Mrs. Kiness. I don’t know what to do.” Sally tried to catch her breath. “You have to come quick. But I swear it wasn’t my fault. And I swear I tried to stop them. But I swear I couldn’t. And I shouldn’t have said those things. But I swear I—”

Mrs. Kiness grabbed Sally. “Find a breath, sweet child. Breathe. There is no need for such a fuss. It will all be fine.”

Sally smiled and wiped a few tears away, but her panic couldn’t be sequestered. “But you will come with me, won’t you Mrs. Kiness? I can’t deal with it all by myself. I swear I can’t—”

“Child,” Mrs. Kiness said more forcefully. “You must learn to relax. Ausmor is a large house, and there is always bound to be something amiss.” Mrs. Kiness hesitantly looked at me and then Jane. “You will stay here until I return?”

Jane nodded. “If I must.”

I waited until Mrs. Kiness left. She moved like molasses. Then I looked at Alexander. “Okay, what the hell?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I was at the carpentry building. Heard something behind me. Next thing I know I wake up covered in saw dust with a bloody head.”

“And there was no one else there when you woke up?”

“Just Mrs. Kiness.”

“Don’t think it was her.”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “You sure?”

“
She’d never hurt Josie’s grandson.” My mind raced trying to place the usual suspects. Johnston never got his hands dirty. Pathetic little bastard probably hired someone else to wipe his own sweaty ass.

“I know who it was,” Alexander said. “Coward waited till my back was turned.”

I nodded. “Just his style.”

Alexander hesitated. “Glad you agree.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant. It’s not like I normally defended Johnston. Guy was a total prick. Bought the whole prick package and didn’t scrimp on the extras. Before I knew it, I sat down beside Alexander and touched his head. “Does this hurt?”

He flinched, and his breathing intensified. So, he wasn’t as aloof as he wanted me to believe.

He took my hand and gently kissed it, and all I could think of was how much we could do before Mrs. Kiness came back. I didn’t want to think about Johnston, about my missing memories or weird scars. I just wanted Alexander’s lips on me.

I leaned in closer to him. I don’t know where I found the courage. I normally wasn’t that bold. But, around him, I found my missing confidence. Maybe he had an extra spine he loaned me. I moved slowly. I was afraid he would stop me, pull away, look away. But he didn’t. His intense green eyes never left mine, and his crooked smile took me in. He breathed harder as if he wanted to capture me.

I slowly leaned in - our lips only inches apart. He didn’t reciprocate. It was like he wanted me to make all the effort. I didn’t mind. I would have done anything. I kissed him. Once our lips touched, everything made sense. I wanted everything. I never wanted it to stop.

I had to be sure this time. Jane usually gave me signals and then the stop sign. I needed to know, but she didn’t hesitate. She didn’t stop. She kissed me. It was like it used to be. We were like we used to be. I could pretend the past didn’t exist. She hadn’t broken me when she chose Byron. She wanted me. She was with me. She kissed me and nothing else mattered. We were together. She wouldn’t choose Byron again. I wouldn’t leave again.

I pulled her to me before she changed her mind. And rolled us both until I was on top of her. I stopped to make sure. I had to be sure. She smiled and gently touched my face.

“Alexander,” she said.

But something wasn’t right. I could have continued. I wanted to continue. Believe me, it took all my strength to stop. Why did I have to think? I knew her memories. I knew she didn’t remember me like we were.
I couldn’t take advantage. I wouldn’t take advantage. I needed her to remember me. Okay, fine. I needed her to choose me over Byron. There, I admitted it. Tired of coming in second to that.

I stopped and smiled at her then propped myself back in bed.

“Does your head hurt?” she asked, sitting up.

I winced. “A little.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“Mrs. Kiness will be coming back in soon.”

Jane nodded. “Right, Mrs. Kiness.” She knew it was an excuse, but I hoped she wouldn’t push.

“You sure that’s it?”

I should have remembered Jane likes to push. “What else would it be?”

That made her uncomfortable. She jumped up and looked out the window. “Like maybe you wished I was someone else.”

“Me? No, that’s what you do. That’s not me.”

She turned around and stared at me. “What does that mean?”

“What do you want me to say?” I waited, but she didn’t respond. “Come on, Jane.”

She didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what to say. You don’t remember me. You don’t remember what we were together. Do you know how that makes me feel? You’re the only one in the world that can hurt me.”

Jane stepped back. She didn’t do uncomfortable. She quipped and then found something else she had to do. Somewhere else she had to be.

“I’m sorry. I’m not manor born. Don’t have the manners hardwired.”

She rolled her eyes. For the first time I saw what it was like for her to be born an Austen walking on eggshells to everyone and apologizing for being born into privilege. “
I’m sorry.” I hesitated, but I needed her to understand. “It’s a little confusing, that’s all. You act like you want me. The way you look at me. That kiss. And you finally agree with me about Byron, but then—”

“Agree with you about Byron?”

“Just five minutes ago. You said it was his style.”

Jane frowned as if trying to figure things out. “You don’t think I meant that Byron attacked you?” She waited for me to say something.

I couldn’t believe she wasn’t on the same page. “You just said it. You can remember back a few minutes, can’t you?” I heard my tone. It wasn’t nonchalant. It was a sarcastic what the hell is wrong with you tone that makes asses sting. Shouldn’t have said that.

Jane backed away toward the door.

“I’m sorry.” I tried to get up, but I couldn’t.

She turned to leave.

I had to say something. She liked banter. What do I say to smooth things over? I just blurted out the first thing I could think of. “You can’t leave. You promised Mrs. Kiness.”

Jane didn’t turn back around. She stopped with her hand on the doorknob. “Mrs. Kiness works for my family. I don’t have to promise her anything.” She left.